


we were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it

by venusplease



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, This Is Sad, abrupt ending sorryyyy, emma is suffering, no beta we die like fools, this sort of thing is becoming a series, very minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusplease/pseuds/venusplease
Summary: emma had to make a choice. now, she’s mourning it.[title: my happy ending- avril lavigne]
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	we were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it

“Emma, I’m sorry, you lost.”

That was the last thing she heard Paul say. Well, sing. Thank god PEIP gave her that gun. She falls to her knees, watching the blue blood pour from his head. If she wasn’t certain before, she sure as hell is now.

Her wails fill the air as that colonel returns, hearing the gunshot. She opens her mouth to speak, but the sight of the crumpled Emma tells her all she needs to know. And the scream, oh god, the scream.

“Get out! Get out, get out, GET OUT!” Emma orders. Colonel Schaffer takes no time in obeying, pressing a button on her watch to request help. But later. Emma clearly needs a moment.

Emma’s body shakes with sobs as she crawls towards Paul, kicking the gun out of the way. She doesn’t want to look at it. It, not him. It’s not Paul anymore.

But it was. The way he’d looked at her when he ran into the room, the way he held her, it was Paul. And then he sang, and it was over.

She brushes the hair off of his forehead, trying hard not to choke on her tears. His eyes are wide, empty, and the bullet hole in the centre of his forehead leaks blue blood, almost glowing. It might be beautiful in another situation. If it was frosting decorating a cake, maybe, or watercolour paint dripping down a canvas. But here, it’s disgusting. It represents everything terrible that happened that day: everyone who died, everyone who suffered, everyone Emma gained and subsequently lost.

She takes a shuddering breath and closes her eyes for a moment. All she sees are those... those things. Not human, but disguised as such. Coming towards her, chanting that horrid tip song or the professor’s musical. It makes her sick.

She opens her eyes again and turns back to Paul. Poor Paul. Paul, who hated all of this. Paul, who just wanted a fucking black coffee. Paul, who actually cared for her. She puts her hand on his forehead, pulling it down to close his eyes. The blue blood transfers down his face, and stays on her hand. She doesn’t wipe it off, not yet.

She hears footsteps behind her. Eyes red and face puffy, she turns to face the newcomers.

“Are you here to kill me, too?”


End file.
